


In Time, I'll Wreck You

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ball-Sucking, Banter, Biting, Communication, Consensual Name-Calling, Established Relationship, Experienced Partner Guides Inexperienced One, Face-Sitting, First Time Trying Out A Kink, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Inexperienced Peter Parker, Intercrural Sex, Intergluteal Sex, Kissing, M/M, Nipple Play, Non-Penetrative Sex, PWP, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark is a Pain Slut, Verbal Humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, finger-sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: Tony took a while to make up his mind to tell Peter about it, but now that they're doing it, he sure isn't going to let doubts filter in. And he shouldn't, because for all his hesitating, Peter is absolutely on board.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	In Time, I'll Wreck You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mere_Mortifer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mere_Mortifer/gifts).



> Your letter is just... so much of my id when it comes to these two in all the different freeforms you chose and the way you outlined them I just... I wrote this in one sitting and it's been An Experience. I hope you enjoy it dear recip 😘

Tony stares at the wall, grinning. There isn't a place in the world he'd rather be right now than exactly where he is. 

On his hands and knees. 

Facing said wall. 

With Peter behind him. 

"Come on, Pete, please," he groans. He doesn't blame him for hesitating but _fuck_ . He needs it. He's aching for it. He's… "Do _whatever_ you want with me, _please_."

Tony bites his lip when he hears Peter suck in a harsh breath. Kid is a bit overwhelmed and again, he doesn't blame him — but if he could just slap his ass or something… 

"I—" Peter stutters and Tony takes pity on him and turns back around. He sits with his legs crossed and his hands purposely staying on his knees. Who cares if he's buck naked and his cock is so hard it pokes him in the stomach? 

"I took you by surprise. Sorry. I'm not… I don't usually do the sitting down and talk about what you like in bed kind of thing." Tony explains, watching pink splotches bloom on Peter's cheeks. The tips of his ears are red, the top of his chest too. It's sweet really. 

It shouldn't be as sexy as it is, maybe. 

"You drive me crazy, Peter. That's the whole truth really." 

" _Tony!_ " Peter chokes, and his bottom lip is all red and wet and Tony has to kiss it, can't not. 

It's a soft, almost chaste press of their mouths, nothing more, except for the way Tony licks at Peter's lips when he draws away, or for the hand he keeps in Peter's hair when he joins their foreheads and listens to the kid breathing hard. They've been messing around for a while but nothing really serious, at least not in terms of sex — there's no doubt what's between them has been more serious than they've really put words on, and for a long time. 

"Talk to me." Tony whispers, noticing how wide Peter's pupils had gotten since they passed the threshold of what they now both refer to as _their_ bedroom. It makes his heart thud in his old chest. That's just unfair at this point, how easily Peter can steal his breath away. 

"I'm not sure how to do it. I mean. I know… I… I heard what you said, I'm just not sure what _names_ to call you." Peter admits in a breath. He sounds so defeated about it too, Tony is tempted to chuckle. But he doesn't. He gets it. 

"That's fine, we don't even have to do any of it at all if you're not into—" 

"No! No I want to… I want to make you feel as good as you can feel," Peter squeezes his hand as Tony sits back, his shy smile another of his heart-stealing signature moves. 

"Slut works," Tony shrugs, "Whore has a nice ring to it too, I bet it would be really, really hot in your mouth…" 

Peter's eyes are still a little too wide when he nods. 

"Mostly," Tony continues, "I just… You're so strong, Pete, I just…" 

"You want me to _'slap you around with my spidey strength and make you come while I pin you down and call you my fucktoy.'_ so you said." Peter nods rapidly, laughing nervously as he says the words and Tony's cock twitches in response. 

"Will you? Try?" 

"Will you tell me if I'm doing it wrong?" 

"You could never." Tony shakes his head, but Peter squeezes his hand again.

"Will you tell me? Please?" 

Tony grins at him, of course he'd want to know. And want to be good at this. There's not a thing on earth Peter doesn't want to learn about, not a thing in his life Peter doesn't give his all to, and certainly not one aspect of their relationship he's not thought about to exhaustion, until he thinks he can get it perfectly. 

"Of course. Yeah. I'll tell you, right away. _'Peter, you're not humiliating my dick right',_ " Tony takes on an accent for no reason other than to make Peter laugh, and when it works, and Peter's giggle echoes through the room, it's like a switch turns back in both their brains, and Tony's arousal suddenly becomes a priority again, one he can't ignore any longer. 

"Come on, baby, show me your worst." He whispers, dragging fingers down Peter's naked chest and watching the goosebumps that follow in their wake. "Show me how you talk dirty. Show me how strong you are. Hurt me a little bit; you can do it, come on." 

Tony braces himself, not quite sure for what, but the shadow that passes over Peter's features just now, and the way he smirks and looks at him from under his lashes, it makes a thrill go down his spine. 

"Do you ever shut up, Tony? Like, just, shut, up?" 

Oh _fuck_. Oh fuck yeah, that works.

"Do you ever…" Peter raises to his knees only to push Tony down by his shoulders and follow him until Tony's on his back and has no choice but to spread his legs to accommodate Peter between them above him. "Stop talking and just listen? Or is that too much for you? Do you need the noise of your own voice?" 

There's no actual bite to Peter's words. No outward meanness, but the sarcasm, the dripping intent and the light in his eyes that tells Tony he's ready to try and play? Fuck if that's hot.

"I guess you'll have to find—" 

"I guess I'll have to busy your mouth?" Peter muses, and it sounds as much a phrase he's heard somewhere — probably in some kind of porn, which is a whole kind of nice thought to have, too, picturing Peter watching porn in the dead of night all embarrassed and bothered — as a genuine question. 

"What would you busy it with?" Tony asks, almost gasping at the sudden way Peter shakes his hair out of the way of his eyes, looking at him like he's studying him as hard as he does a chem problem he doesn't know how to crack. "I have ideas, I mean oomph—" the rest of his words, his ideas, his _brain_ , get shut up, switched off as he tries to swallow his saliva around the sudden intrusion of Peter's fingers, two of them, slipped past his lips without a warning. 

Peter bites his lip, and Tony watches him, moans around Peter's digits as Peter caresses his tongue in a slow, hesitant back-and-forth motion that brings his palm flat to Tony's chin, rubbing against his goatee. 

"That's nice. Your mouth is so wet," Peter smiles. It's genuine, too, some kind of wonder Tony's never seen in any of his past lovers' eyes as Peter keeps stroking his tongue and slowly — probably unconsciously — starts grinding against Tony's hip. "Maybe I could make you suck on something else?"

Tony blinks, rapidly, nodding with Peter's fingers still wedged in his mouth, making them slip further, tickling his throat in a way that makes his eyes roll back. _Please do_ , he tries to say, and Peter moans in time with him. 

"Let's do that," he says, sounding determined like he's marching for women's rights or something, not like he's about to give Tony his cock to suck on. "Oh no, not _that_." Peter tsks though, making Tony frown. 

He pulls his fingers back, getting up to his knees again and moving up Tony's body until he's kneeling right above his neck. 

"My balls, Tony, I liked what you did last time, I think…" and that's the moment Tony's brain short-circuits. This boy. This young, gentle, beautiful soul is ready to make him suck on his balls while he pins him to the bed. "Would you like that? Would that make you feel like an actual bitch?"

Tony gasps. "Fuck, Peter!" He almost wants to laugh, shocked and delighted all at once, but Peter doesn't let him. He frowns. And leans down, and the next thing Tony knows, Peter has a handful of his hair in his fist and he pulls, harsh and up. 

"Did I say you could talk?" He asks. His eyes have never looked so dark. Tony's back arches to follow the tug on his hair, his mouth filling up with saliva again. "You don't need to talk anymore, just suck, and moan, maybe, make me hear how much you like it?" 

This, right here, is the break in the mask, and Tony's heart beats louder and harder for it — Peter's care, his need to know Tony's still into it. He's so into it. 

Tony nods, biting his lip, imploring Peter to go on with everything he has but his voice. He can be good. He can shut up. He can suck, fuck knows he can suck on anything. 

"There we go then." Peter moves up just a little further, until his knees are at either side of Tony's head and he has to lift his cock to not bump it into Tony's chin. He keeps his grip on Tony's hair and gently, lowers himself until his balls are sitting on Tony's lips, and drops his hold on his dick until it lays on Tony's face, heavy, hot, so hard it must hurt, so warm Tony wants to swallow it whole. So he wraps his lips around Peter's balls and does as he's been told. He sucks. 

Tony licks and breathes in the scent of Peter's most intimate parts, the fine hair that covers his boyfriend's testicles tickling his tongue as he laps and slurps and moans at the taste of Peter's skin. He looks up as much as he can, tries to see Peter's eyes, but all he sees is the white-knuckled grip he keeps on the headboard, and the harsh way he bites at his lip and Tony knows, he's restraining himself, and that's the opposite of what Tony wants. No matter how beautiful it is to be able to pleasure him like this. 

"Pete—" 

"I said—" 

"I know, I know, but," Tony reaches for Peter's hips, pushing him down until he can sit on his chest, letting go of Tony's hair in the process — it's a little uncomfortable, but also fucking beautiful — "Let go, can you do that for me?" 

"Was that not good?" Peter's eyes widen, worried sweetheart that he is. 

"No it was," Tony smiles, "it really was. But," 

"But what?" 

"But I want you to let go, go _off_ on me, baby," 

Peter watches him. Tony doesn't know how much time passes, a while, but it's a good kind of time, a time where Peter restarts, processes, he needs it. 

"I don't want to hurt you." Peter says eventually, only to rush and add, "Not too badly at least." 

He looks so bashful. So innocent. 

"So you do want to hurt me?" Tony smirks. 

"I—" 

"Show me, baby, show me what you want. I won't break." Tony whispers, pushing another stray lock of Peter's hair behind his ear as best he can in this position. "And if I do, you'll take care of me, won't you? Repair your broken toy and all?" 

Tony may say it like a joke, but he knows himself, and the fact that his cock jumps at the mere idea of being Peter's toy to play with and do with as he pleases isn't exactly a surprise. Nopes. 

Peter nods. To himself, it turns out. Then he slides off Tony and leans down to peck at his lips, "Turn around, please." 

Tony's eyebrows go up of their own accords, intrigued, but he does as he's asked without question. 

It takes another long moment before Peter makes any move, leaving Tony on his stomach with his head pillowed in his arms. But then he moves again, and drapes himself over Tony's back, and grabs at Tony's ass to part his cheeks and slides his cock between them, and starts rutting. He ruts and he frots himself and he fucks Tony without fucking him, the wet head of his dick dragging against Tony's hole without ever breeching it and he keeps going, his nails digging in Tony's shoulders and his mouth losing control in Tony's neck, spilling wetness as he bites, breathing hot right in Tony's ear, "I've wanted to use your body for so long, wanted to… to worship you," Peter gasps, "to fuck you into the bed without worrying I'd go too far," he whines, I don't control it well, not when I'm horny, Tony," he sounds like he's crying, but the good kind of tears, the tears of pleasure and overwhelming relief, and Tony whimpers when Peter's arms wind around his chest and the man toys with his nipples. 

"Hands and knees," Peter says suddenly, dragging Tony with him before he's even processed the words and keeping on with his thrusts, only this time he's fucking between Tony's sweaty thighs and biting in the meat of his shoulders as he does so, his fingers pulling on Tony's nipples, twisting them blindly this way and then the other. 

Tony cries, moaning out babbled words, pleas, thanks, pleasure flooding his system as the rough drag of Peter's hot cock chafes his thighs and his teeth leave mark after mark in his flesh. 

"You're so perfect, you've been so perfect this whole time, Tony, and now you tell me you want to be called a dirty little whore?" Peter asks, sounding almost angry, yet whining the last words, plaintive as his hips stutter and he grabs Tony's hair again. He straightens up and yanks Tony's head back with him, his dick hitting him behind his balls with every thrust, his rhythm getting more and more erratic as he heaves in labored breaths. "You're mine, Tony," Peter groans, slides his palm down Tony's belly and finds his cock, squeezes it and strokes it and closes his fist hard but briefly around Tony's testicles before he's back to jerking him off and Tony knows he's right on the edge. "My toy, my toy to play with like you said. Tell me, Tony, please tell me." 

There's so much desperation, so much heat in Peter's words, Tony's mind and body are lit with the same fire and need, and he almost doesn't think he'll be able to say anything at all for all that it seemed he couldn't shut up earlier. But he does. 

"I'm yours," he whispers, and then louder, "I'm your toy to fuck and paint in come, Peter, please give it to me, _please_." 

It does it. Peter doesn't usually lasts this long but it seems fitting that he managed today, and fuck if the way he comes won't stay engraved in Tony's memory for a really, really long time. It's hot and sticky, and Peter's orgasm comes out of him in jets that paint Tony's balls and perineum in heat, dripping down his inner thighs and making him see stars too. He shakes, they both do, and the moment Peter strokes his cock again, once, twice, he follows suit, coming hard enough to forget the next few minutes.

They breathe hard, laying on their sides with Peter's softening cock nestled in the small of Tony's back, wet and cold because of it, dirty, and perfect. 

"That was amazing. In case you're wondering. My brains are leaking out of my ears. I'm melted. I don't think I can move for another 36 hours at—" Tony rambles, only stopping when Peter giggles behind him. The giggles turn into frank laughter by the time Tony finds enough strength to twist and turn around. Peter's face and chest are red with exhaustion, and his smile is so vibrant it almost hurts to look at it directly. 

"Well we can be sure of one thing," he says when he's stopped hiccupping, "I haven't broken you just yet." 

Tony grins too, nodding. "I like the sound of 'just yet'." 

"Had a feeling you would." Peter bites his lip, but even so, it doesn't hide how wide his smile wants to stretch one bit. He winks, "An inkling of a feeling that _maybe_ you would." 


End file.
